Victuuri week collection
by Llttlelie
Summary: All the works posted for the Victuuriweek on tumblr. Each day has different promts.
1. Surprises

This is the hottest (?) thing I've written for this fandom. I'm not going to tag it as Explicit or mature, because there's no description of the whole shebang, and I thought T stuck well with it. This corresponds as the prompts Day 1: Viktor surprises and Day 1: Yuuri confessions

Anyway, enjoy!

 **Day 1: Surprises**

Everyone who got to know Viktor Nikiforov for a while knew that behind that rock star behaviour he had in front of the cameras, there was a man too cheerful for his own good and a bit of a scatter brain. He could be egoistical at times, and forgetful of things he thought weren't relevant then, but he also had a heart of gold, and was determined to do everything in his hand to make his loved ones happy.

One of the things people know about him was that he loved surprises. He loved to find things that managed to take his breath away, his eyes widen, and that brought that tingly feeling inside of him he only got when he'd discovered something fascinating.

One of the things that managed to bring that feeling constantly was Yuuri. Even though Viktor had known the Japanese man for a while now, he still managed to surprise him every day, and leave him completely winded by the most simple of actions.

It all started at the Competition banquet in Sochi, a year and a half ago, where a very inebriated Yuuri had lost all inhibitions and swept every guest off their feet. He even managed to affect Yurio, who hated his guts at the time but agreed to have a dance off with the dark-haired man all the same. That day, Viktor had been completely fascinated with him.

He remembered the warm and strong hold of the younger man when he dipped him in their dance, carefree laughs escaping from both their lips. He remembered how strong his heart had pounded against his chest when the other started pole dancing, his strong limbs (and those thighs of steel that came from a life dedicated to figure skating) holding him in graceful poses for everyone to see.

And of course, he remembered his face when he had begged him to coach him. Those eyes that seemed to shine with a thousand stars, those adorably coloured cheeks that spoke volumes of just how much alcohol he'd had, and the warmth of his whole body pressed against him.

The only time he had been more surprised than that was when he was sent a video of that same man skating _Stammi vicino_ better than him, even if he was clearly out of shape. That day he had made a rash decision and packed everything up, ready to dive into the unknown for a man that managed to take his breath away every time they bumped ways.

Since that day on, Viktor lived on a constant flow of surprises, all of them coming by the hand of the dark haired man, and he learnt there were many sides of the figure skater named Katsuki Yuuri.

First, he met his adorable stammery side that wasn't used to having attention drawn onto him, and that blushed at the minimum of contact. He made him want to coo every time he shied from his advances, and made him even more curious for the man that could be so confident yet so shy at the same time.

Then, he got to know his determined and competitive side, and he had to thank Yurio for that. That was the side that pulled his Eros side once again. Having it so close again, just barely out of reach, had made it really hard for Viktor to stop himself from vaulting into the ice and taking the man with him, just to find a place where the two of them were alone to focus his sole attention on him until Eros was the only thing seeping through the walls around them.

Then, it was the sincere Yuuri who made an appearance. The one that confessed he was happy with Viktor being Viktor, and that he didn't need anything else but him. That confession made something churn in his chest, something that had been resting, hidden from his notice until it was too strong for him to fight against it.

Realising he loved the man sitting beside him, who had poured his heart to him and only him had been another big surprise, but, at the same time, it hadn't surprised much, not really. It was inevitable, anyway.

Then, he lost count of how many sides of him he met along the way, but every time Yuuri showed another part of him, Viktor fell deeper and deeper for the other man, to a point where he couldn't remember how it felt not loving him. Yuuri's caring side healed his scarred heart, hurt by the loneliness he had felt in his 27 years. Yuuri's stubborn side made him realise he wasn't always right, as everyone else was determined to make him think.

Yuuri's passionate side beat him declaring his love for him, doing a quadruple flip at the end of his free skate in his honour. Yuuri's selfless side urged him to return to Hasetsu to be by Makkachin's side when his health was at risk, not caring what would happen to him at the competition.

And, of course, it had been Yuuri the one who proposed first. It was subtle, and the words still hung in the air, left unsaid, but both of them knew what that gesture mean. Yuuri didn't want to leave Viktor's side, and he was going to make sure it happened.

Yuuri's self-depreciatingly side, the only one Viktor didn't like but learnt to love all the same, tried to creep up into their happiness, trying to separate them, as Yuuri thought it was the best for him, but Viktor made him realise that what he needed the most was him by his side. At that point of his life, Yuuri had become an essential part of his being, and he would be lost if he returned to the crippling solitude that filled his life before meeting him.

Time went by, but Yuuri kept on being as fascinating as the first day he saw him. He didn't need grand gestures and passionate confessions, it was sometimes silly details that made him stop for a while, basking the unaltered warmth that seeped through his bones and reminded him that he was cherished. Like when he remembered how he liked his tea, when he noticed he sometimes needed some quiet time, or when he still blushed profusely at his ministrations (but never rejected them).

It also was in moments like the one Viktor was experiencing right at that moment, when the same man who was a blushing mess whenever he got into his personal space some months ago was nibbling at his neck while he tried to finish washing the dishes.

He felt his warm hands crippling up to his chest, hugging him from behind and resting his weigh on him. He felt Yuuri's soft hair, longer now, brushing his skin, leaving goose bumps in his trail. He felt his warm tongue teasing his skin, and Viktor gasped, closing his eyes at that.

"I'm home," Yuuri breathed against his skin.

"Welcome back," he breathed, and Yuuri's hold tightened.

"I missed you."

"Me too. You surprised me."

He brushed his collarbone with his nose. "You looked distracted when I came in. What were you thinking about?"

"You."

Viktor could feel Yuuri's smile on his skin. He dropped the sponge, giving up on cleaning the dishes and dried his hands before he turned around, letting his hands sneak into the other man's thin waist, pulling him closer.

"Hi," he muttered, resting his forehead on his.

"Hi," he answered with that small smile that made his heart jump wildly in his chest.

Then, in a blink of an eye, Yuuri's hands were in his hair as he dragged him down into a heated kiss, where hot breaths mingled, lips bruised and tongues danced in a dance known for a while, but that still felt as thrilling as the first time. Viktor's hand sneaked under Yuuri's shirt, desperate to make contact with the other man, and the Japanese's hold on his hair tightened, drawing a soft moan from his lips.

The hand that wasn't buried deep within his hair reached for his lower back, drawing him closer still until they were touching in every space available. Viktor stepped forward until Yuuri's back met the counter, and he lifted him up, placing him softly on it. Yuuri's legs draped around him and he began nibbling that sweet spot in his neck again, drawing a deeper groan from him. He reached for Viktor's worn T-shirt and tugged, taking it out in a swift move and sprawling his hands on the wide expanse of his back, sighing against his skin.

Viktor cupped his face and made him look up, staring deep within Yuuri's eyes. Then, he leaned down, their lips meeting softly in a gesture that spoke volumes about the adoration he felt towards the other. He began unbuttoning his shirt softly, almost teasingly, leaving caresses and kisses on the skin that, little by little, got uncovered. He then put some distance between them, staring at the light olive skin under his fingertips.

"You're beautiful."

There it was, that delectable blush that started in Yuuri's cheeks and ended in his chest, a pale pink way too appetising to ignore. Viktor ran his fingers through his black locks, tugging slightly so he tilted his head up, and he met Yuuri's lips with hunger, eager to feel another time all the facets that made him Katsuki Yuuri.

Feeling the urgency of his touch, Yuuri's legs closed around him and pulled him closer until their chests were touching. He gazed into his eyes, the rich chocolate colour of his irises completely covered by his blown pupils.

"Let's go to our room," he mumbled against his lips.

Viktor immediately draped an arm around his waist and picked him up from the table, putting his other arm under his thighs to keep him in position. The sudden action brewed out a breathy laugh from the younger man. Viktor loved that sound.

He rushed to their room, struggling with the doorknob. Yuuri's hold on his shoulders tightened, as he kept chuckling against his neck.

"Vitya, stop it! We're going to fall!"

The nickname stopped him in his tracks and looked down at the other man, his eyes widened and his mind reeling, as Yuuri's words resonated in his head. Yuuri looked back at him sheepishly, and fidgeted slightly in his arms.

"I-is it okay for me to call you Vitya? It's just, your family and friends in Russia call you that, and I liked it. I've been meaning to ask for a while, but it slipped my mind until now."

"Either you open the door or I kick it down," he mumbled, voice hoarse, "or I can have you against the door, if you wish. I don't mind."

Yuuri's laughs filled the corridor as he reached for the doorknob, opening the door for them. Viktor rushed inside, closing the door behind him, and letting their bodies fall on the bed.

There were many sides of Yuuri he knew, and many that he still didn't know, but he was determined to experience them all. After all, he would never let go of him.


	2. Stammi Vicino, Non Te Ne Andare

A/N: this au just didn't want to let me go. I wanted to write a time travel AU for so long, and now I had the excuse! I just got a bit… carried away. #Day 2: AU time travel #Day 2: Yuuri reunion

 **Day 2. Stammi Vicino, Non Te Ne Andare**

At first, it had been hard to recognise his surroundings. What can you expect, if he shouldn't even be there?

He spent a long time just lying in the bed, trying to clear his foggy mind and sort out his memories. He remembered being at the ice rink, polishing a brand new performance Viktor and him had choreographed together. Then, in the middle of a quad Salchow, he suddenly felt a wave of… something. It was warm and cold at the same time, making him feel strangely weightless and heavy all of the sudden. It was the most bizarre sensation he'd ever had in his life.

He had lost concentration then, that feeling overwhelming his senses, and the next thing he knew was that he was in the process of falling at high speed. He knew he didn't have time to correct his trajectory. The crash was inevitable.

He closed his eyes, waiting with resignation for what would surely be an ugly (and very painful) fall, but it never came. And when he opened his eyes again, there he was. On a really familiar bed in a really familiar room, a room he hadn't been in for at least two years.

What was he doing in Detroit, of all places?

The room was dark, the pale light of the moonlight the only source of light available. He grabbed his phone resting by the bedside table and turned it on. The bright light blinded him momentarily, and he rubbed his eyes in exhaustion. Once done loading, he introduced the pin mechanically and looked at the time. God, it was really late. How much time had he been unconscious?

His eyes darted to the date and gasped. He sat up hastily, blinking to try to clear away the fog that was making him see things. Because the date showed at the screen was impossible. He loaded his browser, checking out the date in news webpages, in social media and official websites, yet the date remained unchanged.

It was the 29th of November, 2015. Two years ago.

What did that mean? That had to be a joke, right? Or maybe he'd hit his head a bit too hard in his fall, and he was seeing things. Or maybe it was a dream. Yeah, it had to be a weird dream, because it wasn't possible to be thrown back in time, less than two years ago, to relive the worst period of his life.

It wasn't possible that the little scar he had in his left hand, caused when Yurio had been a bit too aggressive in his demonstrations of love – the one that made him look like a kicked puppy whenever they bumped ways for a whole month – had disappeared.

It wasn't possible that Viktor's ring wasn't resting on his finger.

He pinched himself in his arm as hard as he could, until he could feel his skin almost tearing, and he could see the beginnings of a bruise in there. He buried his hands on his hair, tugging painfully, hiding it between his knees, and his breath quickened in panic.

It wasn't a dream. It _wasn't_ a dream. It shouldn't have been possible, yet there he was, in a body two years younger than him, in Detroit, with a vivid memory of a time that hadn't happened yet. Because, if all of this was indeed real, and he had, somehow, been thrown back in time, that meant he hadn't gone back to Hasetsu with Viktor after the world's, a gold medal hanging proudly in his neck.

That meant he hadn't placed second after Yuri at the GPF in Barcelona.

That meant he didn't have a fiancé.

That meant he hadn't made his comeback from the lower competitions after his shameful defeat. But that also meant that all the time Viktor spent in Hasetsu training him hadn't happened either. And, if the date was right, and it was, indeed, the 29th of November, that meant he hadn't been in Sochi yet.

And Viktor didn't know him.

Feeling restless, and teasing way too near the line of panicking, he grabbed his training bag and bolted out of the room, making his way through the familiar corridors of the dorms until he was out of the building.

It had snowed some days prior, and a thin coat of snow had piled up at both sides of the road. Yuuri didn't notice the cold, though, as focused as he was to get to the ice rink as soon as possible. Once the building was at sight, he fastened his pace, his footsteps being the only sound disturbing the silent night. He took out the keys for the front door and stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

The still air of the room managed to calm his nerves a bit. He made his way to the deserted rink, tightening his hold in the strap of the bag. He dropped his things unceremoniously on the nearest bench to the rink, taking off his shoes hastily and lacing up his skates with precision. Stretching his numb muscles, he threw himself to the ice, making sure his muscles warmed up before he started.

His body felt weird. He wasn't sure he could pinpoint how so, but it did. It was almost like his insecurity and awkwardness of that time was ingrained in his muscles, knotting them and making them feel stiff. Frowning at his own weakness, he threw all his insecurities aside and did a quad Salchow. His landing was rough and a bit wobbly on his knees, but he hadn't fallen, and that's what counted.

He kept on doing quad Salchows until he got them right, until he regained that sense of thrill and security once his blades touched the ice again, one that past Yuuri never had felt, and one that future Yuuri had learnt to love. Once he mastered his Salchow once again, he changed to toe-loops, then Lutz, until he covered all the jumps.

He left the flip for last. The first time he did a quad flip, his body met the ice, but it was understandable. The Katsuki Yuuri of 22 years would have never dreamt of performing a quad flip in all his professional career, yet alone landing it perfectly.

The ice felt cold and biting against his ungloved hands, and he was reminded once again of how real that situation was. He lied on the ice for some minutes, letting his breathing turn deep and his heart slow down. He felt panic leaving his tensed joints, and his head cleared. It didn't matter he had come back, he would make sure to fix everything. He wouldn't give up.

He stood up carefully and began skating again, throwing himself into another quad flip, trying to fix all the minor mistakes he'd done before. Only his hand touched the ice them. He called that progress.

He jumped, and jumped, and jumped some more, ignoring the way his body was begging him to slow down and get some rest, because he knew his body could endure much more than that. He wasn't praised for his stamina for anything. He jumped until he got it perfect. He needed perfect. He owed him to have this jump perfect.

His body soared the sky, doing the necessary rotations, and his blades landed in the ice with confidence, one knee bended for support and his arms extended gracefully. He'd done it. He stopped then, his breaths coming in ragged mouthfuls, and his heart pounding wild in his chest with excitement.

He did it again, trying to test whether it had been a fluke of luck or if he had really nailed the technique down, and when he landed it again, he had to stop himself from cheering out loud.

He ran a hand through his hair, tucking away the damp strands sticking to his forehead. He finally noticed that the sun was already rising, the soft hues of dawn illuminating the wide room. He glided towards the edge of the rink and grabbed the phone from his jacket, checking the time. It was 6:36 in the morning, an hour and a half before practice started. He didn't have time to go back and get some rest, so he might as well keep on going.

He decided it was a good time as any to check both of his programs for the GPF, and change them a bit. His memory of them was blurry, as his head was determined to erase as much as he could about what happened in Sochi, so any change would be welcomed. He began loading both of his programs in his phone to refresh his memory, and winced at the sloppiness of his jumps. Yeah, he had to change that.

After rewatching his Short Program twice, trying to memorise the choreo as much as possible, he glided towards the centre of the rink and began dancing, fixing as he went along all the mistakes he'd noticed in the video. His body remembered enough of the performance so he could focus on changing steps to make the dance less cropped and more flowing, making time for the new jumps.

Once he ended, he did it again, focusing entirely in the whole of the performance this time, and testing how the changes felt. He finished polishing his entrances to his jumps, encompassing everything with the music until it seemed that the music was following him, not the other way around.

He finished with an arm raised to the air, his hand reaching far above the ceiling on top of him, even further than the sky. He heard clapping then, and Yuuri dropped his arms, looking around in confusion, just to see Celestino looking back at him with a wide smile on his face.

"I see you changed your Short Program."

Yuuri nodded, and answered between mouthfuls of air. "I felt it wasn't good enough, so I came early to practice."

"I don't know if you can consider 4 AM being early or late." The Japanese opened his mouth to protest, but Ciao Ciao beat him to it. "Phichit heard you leave, and texted me this morning when he didn't find you in your room."

Oh, of course. Phichit's room was in front of his, and he remembered they checked on each other – more like Phichit checked on him when he had another anxiety attack – regularly. He hadn't even made an effort to be silent this morning, so of course Phichit had heard him. He should talk to him to reassure him he was okay.

"Now, Yuuri," Celestino's tone of voice snapped him out of his musings, "care to explain how did you manage to land three quads without batting an eye, when just yesterday you still struggled with a triple Salchow?"

He winced inwardly at that. Now how was he going to explain that?

"I… practiced?"

"How long have you been practicing complex jumps without supervision?"

"For… a while."

Celestino raised an eyebrow, not quite believing his half-assed explanations – and he couldn't blame him; he wouldn't believe them either – but relented. Seeing as Yuuri wouldn't say anything else about it, he sighed in defeat.

"You should've told me, Yuuri. What you did was really dangerous; a nasty fall and you'd have hurt yourself. And with the GPF around the corner, we can't allow ourselves these kind of mishaps."

"Yes, coach Celestino."

He chuckled at his downcast expression, and crossed his arms, his stern façade falling to show the excitement and, dare he say, pride, he felt then.

"That matter aside, your performance was impeccable. I have never seen you so in the top of your game as now, and so close to the GFP! What triggered this change?"

He shrugged, not quite sure how to answered. "I just… felt I could do much more than that. I didn't want my anxiety getting in the way of my love for skating."

At least that's what had happened in his other life. Viktor helped him remember just how much he loved the ice, and returned him his motivation to keep going despite all the deeds. He taught him to be confident in himself, that he was perfect just the way he was.

God, how he missed him.

"Good, good!" Celestino beamed proudly. "I'm so proud of you, Yuuri! You did an impressive progress in such a short time! If you keep up your hard work like that, you'll be the big surprise at Sochi! They won't know what's coming for them, and once they do, it'll be too late. Even Viktor Nikiforov himself will have a hard time trying to beat you."

Yuuri tried with all his might to conceal his wince at the mention of the other skater. He bowed slightly to hide his painful grimace, hoping that the other wouldn't look too much into it. Thankfully, if Celestino had noticed something, he decided not to comment about it.

"So, have you also changed your Free Skate?"

"Not yet, but I was going to do it once I finished fixing my SP."

Ciao Ciao nodded. "Perfect. Let's make use of this surge of inspiration to its fullest. Now, show me again the SP and I'll give you my opinion about it, then we can check the FS later. We have a deal?"

"Yeah."

Yuuri positioned himself in the centre of the rink, and started again.

.-.-.-.-.-.

Days passed by quickly since then. Celestino and him spent extra hours at the rink, polishing the two performances into a brand new act.

Phichit sometimes joined them, phone in hand as he filmed his friend skating with a confidence he had never seen on the other man. Celestino banned him from posting anything in his many social media accounts, threatening him of taking his phone from him until Sochi ended. Phichit had looked horrified at the prospect of being separated from the love of his life, and had tuned down his uploads, only posting selfies of the two together, rooting for him.

When Yuuri asked Ciao Ciao if he was notifying the judges about the change, he just laughed and patted his back, telling him he didn't need to worry about anything. He should perform at his best, and he would make sure it was a bombshell. If he wanted to keep the 'Rebirth of Katsuki Yuuri', as he called it, for himself for a little while, he couldn't do anything about it.

Yuuri didn't care if he surprised them or not. He just wanted to skate at his fullest potential.

In the late of night, his mind was filled of his memories of the past merging with his new memories. He wondered how this change in him would affect the future. He didn't want to change it very much – he was happy in his future, but he couldn't bring himself to repeat all those mistakes, if he could avoid them.

The death of Vicchan, however, was inevitable. It had happened months before he came back, so he couldn't do anything about it. However, instead of feeling depressed about it, like the time before, he just cherished the bittersweet memories he had of the little poodle. He had already had the time to mourn him, and he knew he wouldn't want it otherwise.

Time passed in a blur of practices, hanging out with Phichit and spending hours at night looking at his phone, wondering if he should call Viktor or not. But what could he say to him, if he wasn't sure if the other man even know him at all? What if he said the wrong thing and it drove him away? He knew how to talk to the Viktor that knew Yuuri, but he had no idea how to address a Viktor who didn't know who he was.

Yuuri arrived at Sochi feeling restless. He wanted so badly to see Viktor, but was afraid at his reaction at the same time. Would he know who he was? Would he recognise him or not, like the first time? He wasn't sure he would be able to handle seeing Viktor looking at him like a stranger.

However, he didn't have the opportunity to check it, as he didn't see Viktor in the hotel, neither at the ice rink before the competition the next day. He'd heard people comment they've seen him once or twice, but how come they kept on missing each other? He had seen all the other male competitors, even some juniors, but him.

He even caught a glimpse of a disgruntled Yurio ignoring Yakov scolding. He looked so little in there, wearing the hood of his jacket and leaning back on the chair, checking his phone while Yakov ranted by his side in Russian…

He may have teared up a bit.

His turn to skate had come way too soon, and he had missed Viktor completely. Where was he? Why was fate playing with him, when they were so close to each other? He heard half-heartedly Ciao Ciao's reassuring words, his eyes looking around, trying to spot the Russian man. He skated to the centre of the rink, looking around at the crowd, hoping to find that luscious silver hair in the middle of it.

He fell in position and looked to the side, and there he was, looking as beautiful and ethereal as always. He was standing behind the barriers, his eyes fixed on him and only him, looking back with intensity. He felt shivering going through him, and he had to resist the urge to close his eyes in content. God, he had missed him so much.

The music began, and Yuuri started his performance. He was so happy to have seen Viktor before his performance. He was behind the barrier, looking at him like when he had been his coach. He could dance for him again.

He threw himself to his performance, pouring in all the longing, all the admiration, all the love for him to see. He wanted to tell him. He wanted him to know so badly. He wanted him to know that it didn't matter if he didn't remember, he still had love for the both of them.

He started the second part of the SP, where all the jumps were packed together. It was time to surprise him, to remind him why he had liked Yuuri in the first place. Viktor lived for surprises, and he was about to give him just what he craved for.

He could hear the loud gasps coming from the audience at his sudden improvement, and the announcers weren't faring much better. How could they be, when they see someone who couldn't even land his triples decently three weeks ago could suddenly do quads like it was no big business? But Yuuri didn't care for them, he just cared for the Russian man looking at him at the barriers.

The song was ending, and he knew it was time for the big declaration, for something he had kept in secret even from his own coach. From a three-turn, he took off from a toe pick, soaring the skies as he did the necessary rotations, and lifting an arm in the process. His blades landed effortlessly on the ice and he extended his arms, his head risen high as he proceeded to the end of the choreography.

The music was almost inaudible by the time he was completing his final spins, the roars of the public covering the sweet melody. Yuuri kept on going, and when he came to a stop, instead of doing his prior ending pose, he hugged himself, kissing the finger where his ring was supposed to be placed.

He returned to himself when the crowd became too deafening. He looked around, trying to spot Viktor again, but he was nowhere to be found. Where was he? Where was he!?

Turning towards the kiss and cry, he gasped. Viktor was at the doorway, panting heavily and his hair in a disarray, almost as he had ran as fast as he could to the door. Yuuri stood frozen in the ice, the situation way too familiar and bringing tears to his eyes. Then, Viktor extended his arms in a way he had done so many times before, and Yuuri beamed, propelling his body as fast as he could towards the other man.

When he was about to reach the edge, Viktor jumped towards him, cradling his face softly before joining their lips together in their fall. Yuuri choked a sob at that, memories of the Cup of China coming to mind. Then, his strong arms embraced him, cushioning him from his fall. He was breathless when their bodies met the ice, and he could feel his heart beating strongly against his chest.

" _Yuuri._ " Viktor mumbled against his neck, his voice almost breaking. Yuuri could feel the tears prickling at the corner of his eyes, but couldn't help but smile brightly at the ceiling. He tightened his hold on him, and laughed breathlessly.

" _Viktor._ You're here too."

He put some space from them, and looked at him with a small frown. He could see the tears he was desperately trying to hold. "Of course I'm here. I bowed to you I'd stay close to you and never let go, didn't I?"

Yuuri laughs hearty at that, and it managed to draw out a chuckle from Viktor. He stood up, and lent him a hand, helping the other skater get up from the ice. He didn't let go of his hand.

"You're skating last, right?"

"Yeah. Although I have the feeling it'll be very hard to beat your score, Yuuri."

He rolled his eyes, but he couldn't take away his goofy smile. "Come on, Celestino's waiting for me. Moreover, I think Yakov is having an aneurism right now. He's an old man, Vitya, you have to take care of him."

Viktor leaned down, resting his forehead in his. "Have I ever told you I love it when you call me Vitya?"

"Yeah, you have, multiple times." _Sometimes without words._ He put some space between them again, and looked around in amusement. "You know we're confusing the hell out of all this people, right?"

Viktor winked at him. "You know I love to surprise my audience."

He laughed. "Come on, Vitya! You need to go."

"In a moment." He rose their joined hands, and kissed his ring finger, even though the jewel wasn't there anymore. He smirked against his skin. "I'm all charged up, now. Now go to the Kiss and Cry with your soon-to-be former coach. I need to know which score I have to beat."

Shaking his head in fond exasperation, he made his way to the bench. Celestino was waiting for him in there, looking at Yuuri almost as if it was the first time he'd seen him. He opened his mouth, but no sound came from it. Yuuri sat down beside him, not saying a word about it.

His score came in then, and the whole stadium broke into pandemonium. Yuuri strained his eyes to read the score at the screen, making sure he had heard correctly. He had beaten Viktor's world record.

He felt Celestino arm on his shoulders, his shock momentarily forgotten by the news. He smiled politely at the cameras and waved at the audience, feeling a bit self-conscious, and he was glad when they could get out of there.

He stayed at the side of the rink, looking fondly at Viktor's performance. He could see where he had changed his initial choreography, brought by the Viktor that had coached him for one year and a half, and had found his inspiration back. However, it seemed it wasn't enough, as he placed two points below him. However, it didn't dampen his mood, and he regarded the audience with the same passion as always.

Yuuri was making his way to the lockers when he bumped into Yurio. He just stared at him without saying a word, and Yuuri had to resist the urge to fidget under his steely gaze. Why did a teenager have such a steely gaze!?

"… you skated well," he finally said, leaving the other man staring at his back when he left his way. Before he was out of sight, though, he stopped without looking back, and added, "… stupid Katsudon."

Yuuri was startled for a moment, but chuckled fondly afterwards. "See you at the seniors next year, Yurio."

"Whatever."

The afternoon continued without further havoc, if you ignored completely all the questions the press kept on firing his way, only being answered with a polite bow and a 'We will see how the Free Skate goes'. By the end of the day, several social media had crashed thrice, and the whole world had more questions than answers at that point.

Viktor and Yuuri lied on Yuuri's hotel bed, their limbs tangled up together, and a blanket thrown on them. Their breathing had encompassed a while ago, and both were content of being just sharing each other's heat after so long of being apart. Yuuri drew little doodles on Viktor's chest, and the Russian nuzzled his hair.

"You know," he said after a long time in silence. Yuuri rose his head to look at him properly. "When I first saw you fall that way at the practice, I had been really scared. You were heading headfirst into the ice, and I couldn't do nothing to stop it. Then I felt something very strange coming my way, and when I opened my eyes I was the one falling on his butt."

"Did you hurt yourself?"

"Nah, just a nasty bruise. However, everyone was looking at me as if I had grown a second head. Oh, my, the great Viktor Nikiforov falling after a jump. What a sight," he scoffed.

Yuuri placed a kiss on his collarbone. "What happened next?"

"Well, it took a while to really believe I was in the past. It shouldn't have been possible, right? Then, when reality settled in, I kept training, changing my programs a bit, and messed up with Yurio, who was snappier than I remember him to be."

"I think he's come back to. He called me Katsudon."

"Really?" he sighed happily, "that's a relief. Anyway, I spent as much time as possible in the ice and with Makkachin. I also wondered whether to call you or not, but I didn't know if you'd made it back, so I decided I'd wait until Sochi to talk to you. I guessed I would strike up a friendly conversation, or something along the way, but when I got here I couldn't find you anywhere."

"It happened to me too. It seems we missed each other."

"Yeah. However, I knew I could find you if I went to the rink when it was your turn out, so I went in there, just to see you skating to the middle of the rink." His hold around him tightened around him. "You looked so beautiful in there, Yuuri, almost ethereal. Then your SP began, and your movements were so fluid and your jumps perfect, but it was the quad flip that confirmed it. You were _my_ Yuuri, in every sense of the word."

"And you are mine." Yuuri sighed. "I'm glad to have you here with me."

"Me too."

The Japanese chuckled slightly then. "I'm just bummed we couldn't keep our rings."

"Oh, but that's easily fixed."

Viktor placed a kiss on his head and reached for his jacket, which was lying forgotten in the floor. Yuuri stared at him in confusion as he rummaged in his pockets, trying to find something buried deep within. With a soft 'aha!', he took something out from there and handed it to Yuuri. It was a tiny box. He opened it and his eyes widened when he saw what was inside.

"Just what the hell were you going to do with my past self?"

Viktor shrugged, his face showing his familiar carefree smile. "There's nothing wrong with trying. Who knows? Perhaps you'd say yes." he then grabbed one of the rings from the box and presented it to the other man, his eyes full of love. "Yuuri, would you do me the pleasure to be mine again?"

"Of course yes, you ridiculous man."

Yuuri put a hand on his neck and brought his head down, meeting him halfway in a soaring kiss. Viktor put the ring in its rightful place and kissed it just like before. Yuuri repeated the process on him, and after that, both of them got the matching rings again.

They fell asleep in that position, both of them not wanting to be away of each other. Viktor was the first one to wake up, the sun coming from the window blinding him slightly. He looked down at the man in his arms, and the happiness he felt at that single moment was incomparable.

He reached for his phone, which was resting on the bedside table, and took a quick picture of the both of them. He checked it out, and almost cooed at the adorableness of the man sleeping soundly against him. His head was buried in his shoulder, his shorter strands sticking out slightly, and his mouth was curved up in satisfaction, as if he was in the most comfortable place of the whole world. And in his hand, the gold band was in plain view, shining slightly with the morning light.

His heart sang with happiness.

"Yuuri." He shook him gently, earning a breathy hum from the other. "Can I break the internet?"

Yuuri hummed again, and buried his head some more in his chest. "We already did yesterday, but go ahead. It's not as if we didn't use do that in a daily basis."

Chuckling at his answer, Viktor opened his Instagram account. His feed was full of different pictures and videos of both of their performances, and a complete analysis of their interaction. Grinning to himself, he posted the picture he just got, choosing the filter that made the ring glint more.

 **v_nikiforov** Look at this beauty! #MyTastyKatsudon #KatsukiYuuri #sleepingbeauty #itShinesSoMuch! #Sochi2015 #StammiVicinoNonTeNeAndare

In the matter of a minute, Instagram collapsed.


	3. Je ne regrette pas d'être avec vous

#Victuuri week #Day 3: Viktor regret #Day 3: Yuuri doubt

 **Day 3: Je ne regrette pas d'être avec vous**

There were many things Viktor regretted doing or not doing in his life. That was understandable; someone who had been on the public eye for so long like him, more so if you were the icon of a country as controversial as Russia, had to restrain himself from doing a lot of things, just not to tarnish his reputation.

Now, Viktor wasn't one to dull his flamboyant personality and his selfish demeanours just because of that – one example of that was when he bought a one-way ticket to Japan after watching a single youtube video - but still, there were times he had to refrain himself, or to act a certain way to please the others.

That situation brought some regrets to his life. Some were minor things, situations that were quickly forgotten with the whirlwind of his life as a celebrity, but other stayed, stabbing little pricks to his heart that sometimes nailed themselves deeper, making him struggle to keep his smile in his face.

For example, he regretted not insisting his parents to go with them to visit his grandmother, when he had been eight. Even thought he had been looking forward to it for weeks, that day he'd had an awful cold, and his parents had insisted he stayed at home to rest despite his protests, saying he could see his grandma the next time they visited.

There was never a next time.

It had been peaceful, they said. It had been in her sleep, in her armchair, draped in her favourite blanket, the one Viktor and her had bought at that market in St Petersburg. Everyone was surprised to see there was a small smile in her face when it happened, looking like she was having a nice dream.

But Viktor didn't see any of that, as he couldn't get out of his room by the funeral. That was another thing he regretted not doing. He spent whole days crying until there weren't any tears left to shed, and his throat was too sore to wail anymore.

The woman had been the one that taught him how to skate when he was little. She showed him that, no matter how many times he fell, he could still get up and keep going, leaving the pain behind. She showed him how fun it was to let yourself glide on the frozen waters of the lake near her little cottage at the countryside, the one who didn't laugh when he told her he wanted to be a professional ice skater, and the one who actually supported him to pursue his dreams.

Part of the reason why he was in there was for her, and he regretted not being able to say goodbye, and thank her for everything she had done.

Another thing he regretted was being so closed off when he started competing in juniors. It wasn't that he didn't like the other skaters, it was just that he didn't know how to behave around them. They didn't take him seriously at first – he was the rookie of the competition, and also painfully quiet. He was no threat at all.

Then it came his turn to skate, and the cocky confidence of the boys older than him were crushed to pieces.

He had won this competition, then the one after that. He heard sobbing behind closed doors, screams of rage at the boy who had destroyed their dreams, the boy who had been acting all along to make them drop their guard around him, the one who had cheated to be better than them. The boy that didn't deserve to win.

So he took it in himself to act confident and open, instead of being so reserved, regarding everyone with smiles and encouraging words until that personality became a part of him too. He wouldn't give them an excuse to blame their loss on him. If he was confident, he wouldn't be fooling anyone anymore, so their mistakes would be their own.

Things began looking up for him from there. He began having fans around the world, being drawn to his open rock star personality, even thought he was still a teenager. People looked up at him instead of whispering on his back, and younger skaters came to him with faces full of admiration. He loved all of it.

He let his hair grow when he was fifteen, the long platinum strands reminding him of his grandma's. People praised him for it, and he let it grow until he had to tuck it up in a ponytail, as it kept getting in the way when he skated.

That was when he made the mistake of taking for granted that his public loved him no matter what. Russia wasn't kind of any show of what they deemed 'inappropriate behaviour', and it seemed that Viktor's long hair fell into that category. They thought he was challenging the country by that bold action, and their hurtful critique began drowning the praised of his supporters.

It even came to a point that Yakov, one to ignore the ridiculousness that seemed to infect the people leaving in their mother country, asked him to remove his hair, not because he believed in the conservative discourse, but because he really feared what would happen to his top skater.

Viktor had rebelled for a while, too attached to his long strands to even think about cutting them, but in the end, he relented, and he snipped his long locks himself, watching mournfully how they fell one by one to the cold tiles of his bathroom.

He regretted caving into submission then.

He also regretted drowning in the strange routine the sparkling world of figure skating competitions brought him, to the point that it didn't excite him anymore. He was running out of ideas, he didn't know how to surprise his audience anymore. They expected more of him, like ravenous hounds waiting for a new miracle to happen, but Viktor was _so tired._

He felt alone, more than ever in his life. Makkachin was his only companion in his long life, and although he loved the dog to bits, he longed for something more, a hand to hold, body warmth beside him, someone who didn't demand more of him, who was thrilled with whatever he could give them.

And then, Yuuri came, like a tidal wave that tilted his whole world upside-down. He was passion as he was tranquillity, beautifully bold and painfully shy at the same time. The man named Katsuki Yuuri was a constant change that left him winded and tingly, and so utterly happy that he wanted to scream it to everyone around. He maybe did it a couple of times.

Yuuri was something he had never, didn't and would never regret, in this life and many others to come their way. He had been a beacon of hope in his darkening world, he extended his hand to tug him out of his spiral of self-loathe, and comforted him with soft caresses so on character on him. He had accepted him on his side, and constantly reassured him that 'just Viktor' was fine.

He could drop all pretensions with him, all those ingrained personalities he had learnt to maintain with years, and Yuuri would be content. No, not content. _Happy_. He made the other skater happy, and only that brought joy to his life.

Yuuri thought Viktor had been his saviour when he came to Hasetsu, returning him his love for skating, but he didn't understand it was the other way around, that Yuuri had been the one to save him from falling to a destructive pit he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to get out of.

Falling in love with him had been a natural step to take, one he didn't realise he was taking until he was knee-deep into it. One he neither regretted at the sightless.

However, what he regretted the most was that Yuuri didn't seem aware of any of it. His self-doubt was always in the way, always making him believe he didn't deserve all of his attention, when he was in reality the most precious thing he had ever had in his life.

He believed that Viktor belonged to the ice, to his fans, but he couldn't be more wrong about it. He had never belonged to any of it, they had only been the pathway threaded by destiny to make sure they both met.

But, as Yuuri had his back whenever he was feeling down, he had his, and he would make sure to remind him every day how treasured he really was. It didn't matter Yuuri didn't love himself – Viktor had enough love in himself for the both of them.

After all, Yuuri had been who had asked him to come to him, so Viktor would be the one to decide when to leave. And well, if he never left, that would be his problem.

And rest assured, because he would never, no matter what fate brought their way, regret it.


	4. Night Sonata

**AN: day 4 and I'm already late. Isn't it peachy? Shoutout to Leisey, my favourite ladybug, who kept on encouraging me to write, even though my week has been hectic af. If it wasn't for her, this would've come out much later :')**

 **Day 4: Night Sonata**

A couple stumbled inside a softly lit bedroom after struggling with the doorknob for a whole minute, something it would have been solved in five mere seconds, if their sole attention hadn't been focused into each other.

The couple giggled when the taller one almost fell to the floor, the door quickly giving in to their weigh once unlocked. The man quickly recomposed himself and grabbed the other, tugging him inside and to his arms. The door was closed behind them with a graceful kick, and the taller man guided them both to the middle of the room, twirling the dark-haired man along.

"Viktor, stop it!" The man's protests were drowned by his squeals and laughs, making him know that he didn't mind being hauled like that, far from it.

However, Viktor slowed down, wrapping his arms firmly around the lithe body of the other, resting his chin softly on the top of his head. He felt more than heard his sigh of contentment against his collarbone, and he couldn't resist himself to hold him closer still.

"I can't believe it's already happened," he muttered, and Viktor looked down, "that we're already…"

"What, Yuuri?"

He looked up at him. "Married."

Viktor took the chance to drink the sight of his now husband tucked in his arms. He was wearing contact lenses, and his slightly longer hair was slicked back, but all the dancing had messed it slightly in a way that made Viktor's mouth water. His pale olive skin glowed in contrast of his white suit, but what he loved the most was the brilliant smile decorating his face, the one that made his chocolate eyes sparkle and his cheeks blush.

He was a marvellous sight, and from then on it was all his.

He cupped his face and Yuuri leaned on his palm, closing his eyes at the warmth of the skin against him. He placed a soft peck in his lips then – he looked too adorable to resist – and when he parted, Yuuri was looking at him again, that little flush of shyness colouring his cheeks. He squealed and twirled him again.

"Viktor!" he exclaimed in surprise.

"I'm so happy, Yuuri! You're mine!" He squeezed him, rubbing his hair with his cheek. He was oozing happiness. "Let's dance!"

Viktor dragged him at the middle of the room, moving the table aside to make room for the both of them. He reached for the controller lying forgotten between the cushions of the sofa, and switched on the CD player. Instantly later, a soft melody filled the room.

Viktor turned around and bowed slightly, offering a hand to Yuuri. "Would you do me the pleasure to dance with me in this beautiful night?"

Yuuri shook his head in fond exasperation and took his extended hand, reaching for his shoulder. Viktor's arm went around his waist and pulled him closer, and both men fell into the familiar steps of the dance. Viktor spun him and tucked him on his arms again, dipping him carefully.

"Why do you look so enthusiastic all of the sudden?" Yuuri teased, "we've been dancing for hours at the banquet. You should be dead tired."

"Come on, Yuuri. I never get tired when I'm dancing with you. It's my third favourite thing after skating with you."

He cocked his head in confusion. "You said just one thing. Which is the other?"

The smouldering look Viktor gave him after his question was enough to make his heart beat erratically in his chest and make him flush from head to toe. Oh, he knew what was his second favourite thing.

Viktor hummed, and he could feel the arms around him pull him closer still. "It was a shame your family and friends were there, I couldn't have you all to myself. But then again, when have we cared about that in the first place, huh?"

"Now that you mention it…" Yuuri chuckled. "We hugged at my first public event, and kissed at the China cup. Then we literally told the whole world we were engaged one day after we exchanged rings. We haven't been exactly subtle about our relationship."

"Exactly. But I missed the intimacy."

Yuuri's face softened. "Yeah, I missed it too."

The song ended, and another one began in its place. Viktor didn't recognise the melody, but once he heard the lyrics, he understood why – it was in Japanese. The soft voice of the female singer stroked the notes with sweetness and the piano composed a melody easy to follow.

Yuuri's face, however, brightened when he recognised the song. He looked a bit hesitant, all of the sudden, something that made him momentarily worry about the Japanese man, but then, he opened his mouth, and the richest of sounds came from him.

Yuuri began singing along with the song while we danced. His voice was deeper, but it complemented the singer perfectly, creating a harmony and filling the song with life.

Viktor could only stare at the man in his arms, while his body carried them mechanically through their steps.

Even with all the languages in the world, and using all the similes he could come up with, Viktor wouldn't even come close to described what he felt when Yuuri started singing.

His voice was like molten dark honey in the middle of a cold winter, sweet with a dash of bitterness that made it all irresistible. It was also the feeling you got when you landed a perfect quad in front of an audience, booming cheers around you. It was like waking up in ruffled blankets, warm and cosy, and with the breathing of your lover hitting your skin.

It left you winded, with a sudden craving panging deep within your chest, but satiated at the same time. And yet Yuuri stayed completely oblivious towards it. Viktor couldn't help but wonder in his hazy mind how someone as charming as him could be so clueless at the effect he had on others.

How could he not see that he was a sight to behold, a vision, looking as ethereal as a nymph, with molten chocolate eyes that seemed to change with his every emotion, his seemingly lithe but actually strong body that could endure the hardest of the predicaments, a smile that could disarm a whole army, and a voice that would make countries surrender at his mere presence.

How could he not see he carried an inner sweetness in himself everywhere he went, and healed everyone who met him? How could he not see that every time he met his steely gaze, his heart went into a disarray, and he had a hard time to catch his breath afterwards?

Viktor looked at their joined hands, where his gold ring gleamed brightly in the soft light of the room. He still couldn't believe that it was real, that he would keep the man in his arms for all his life, starting now. He felt he was the luckiest man in the world.

Yuuri stopped singing when the song ended, a bright smile in his face directed at him, and it became Viktor's undoing. He stepped forward, startling Yuuri, but that didn't deter him, continuing forward until the shorter man was all but cornered against the wall, encased by Viktor's strong arms.

He looked up with that puppy eyes of him, that, as they noticed the state in which Viktor was in, darkened, welcoming in Viktor's personal favourite manifestation of Eros. He cocked his hair, and the tresses that had escaped from his carefully slicked hair moved with him, giving him an image of vulnerability yet deep passion that he was pretty sure was illegal in some countries.

"What's wrong, _Viktor_?" he purred in his sultry voice, a bit rough from singing, and he couldn't help but close his eyes at the shiver that ran through him.

" _Yuuri_." He rested his forehead on his, trying to reign control over his excited thoughts. "You didn't tell me you could sing."

Yuuri, in exchange, ran a finger down his collarbone, leaving a trail of goose bumps behind. "Well, you _do_ love surprises."

Viktor got closer at that, until every inch of their bodies was touching. He placed a finger in his chin and raised it, giving him access at the other's neck. He bit teasingly at the young skin, marvelling at the soft moan making its way through Yuuri's lips. He licked the spot he had just bitten, and Yuuri's hand travelled up to his hair, tightening his grip on it.

"I loved your singing, Yuuri. It makes me want to make you sing all night long."

"No one's stopping you," he breathed, and Viktor smirked against his skin.

"I'll take up on that offer then, my love."

Viktor raised his head and captured Yuuri's slightly opened lips on his own, letting his tongue caress his plump lips and mouth. Yuuri responded in kind, dragging his hands down to tuck the shirt out of his trousers, eager to feel the skin of his back against his hands. The motion also brought their lower halves together, and both groaned in pleasure and surprise at the unexpected touch.

Viktor placed his knee between Yuuri's thighs, making him open his legs slightly, and he took the chance to undo the buttons of his shirt, kissing, nipping and licking every inch if skin the action brought out. The breathy moans coming from the squirming man against him only worked as an incentive, fuelling up his desire to hear that beautiful voice until the man came undone under him.

Yuuri's leg bended around him tugging him closer, and urging him to keep up with his ministrations. His hands were fisted in his shirt so strongly he almost could feel the soft cotton tearing, but he couldn't bring himself to care at this instant.

Once he was done with all the buttons, he tugged his tie out of the way and slipped off the shirt from the Japanese's shoulders, letting in plain sight his muscular body. Viktor leaned away, enjoying a view he would never get tired of, but Yuuri had different thoughts. He used his leg to pull him against him, and bit his Adam apple, his swift tongue teasing his throat.

Viktor's mind went astray after that.

Picking the man up by his ass, he carried him hastily to the bed, Yuuri's legs draped tight around his body. Once their bodies touched the mattress, Yuuri reached for Viktor's tie, loosening it enough to take it out, then for his shirt, flubbing with the little buttons. He, in his eager desperation, managed to undo one or two before giving up and tearing the shirt, the buttons flying at high speed around the room.

Viktor raised his head from Yuuri's collarbone, leaving a trail of red marks in there that would be very much visible in the morning, and chuckled, lust making his voice sound rougher.

"Aren't we eager?"

Yuuri answered grinding their groins together. His eyes were misted, and the dark chocolate of his eyes was almost drowned by his wide pupils. "Can't wait. I want you now."

Not even wanting to supress the shiver of pure want that ran through him, Viktor sneaked a hand between them, palming the other's need. Yuuri's mouth opened in a silent o, and his breath hitched. His hold on the Russian man tightened, reaching down to squeeze his backside.

Nibbling at his ear, Viktor whispered, "let me hear that beautiful voice of yours tonight, Yuuri."

And after hours and hours hearing all the sounds he could bring out of Yuuri, he could say with confidence that the sound he made when he came undone was his favourite sound of them all.

* * *

 **AN: I'm still not confident enough to write a whole Explicit scene, so I chose to leave it in there. I hope you guys don't mind. *covers her eyes in embarrassment***


	5. Run, boy, Run

A/N: Hey, I'm trash.

 **Day 5. Run, boy, Run**

It was deep within the night in a quiet city named Hasetsu. The streets were deserted, and the shops had long since been closed for the day. Soft waves crashed against the sea shore, and the faint sea breeze waved the falling leaves of the town trees. The light of the waxing moon bathed the poor-lit streets, the bluish white light being enough to light the way for stray cats hunting for food.

Someone would think that they would never find a place more peaceful than this little town, right at this instant. However, the air crippled with energy that night.

No one in town knew how to explain the strange happenstances that began occurring in Hasetsu a while ago. Objects seemed to regain life at night. Things began switching places and sizes, sometimes disappearing altogether. There were too many blackouts without technical failure that could explain them, and too many damaged facilities pegged to vandalism, even though the damage was far too widespread to be just that.

But it wasn't only that, oh no. There were times when you could feel the hairs on your arms rise in unease, when you felt compelled to look at the other side, to ignore what was happening around you and keep on going, even though curiosity gnawed on you, just to completely forget about it once you turn the corner.

Katsuki Yuuri, however, wasn't affected by all this. He walked down the empty street looking around, trying to spot what was causing the disturbances in the air that he could sense. The taste of magic lingered in the air, and made his skin get goose bumps.

He felt the inner pocket of his long jacket shift, and soon, a creature that seemed a stuffed poodle with little wings took his head out of it, sniffing the air with eyes closed.

"The magic is stronger around here, Yuuri," it said with a slightly high-pitched voice, "we're on a good path."

Yuuri nodded, glad that his senses had been right, and kept on going forward, trying to spot any trouble around, something that could explain the chilling sensation running through him.

It was really strange, he thought. Usually, cards loved to make a mess, abusing a bit too much of their freedom once activated on their own, and making it really hard to explain why the fountain was suddenly replaced by a glaring hole the next day, or why there were twice the number of trees in the forest surrounding the city.

There were also cards who loved a challenge, and looked for a worthy opponent, mostly the creatures with greater magic powers of their whereabouts. Those were usually dangerous, and their power was something to be reckoned with. Those were also the hardest ones to seal.

However, the night was eerie silent, and even thought the card had been activated, he couldn't spot a single disturbance anywhere. It unnerved him.

" _Yuuri,_ " a voice sing-songed behind him, the owner's breath ghosting on his ear, and he shrieked in surprise. He turned around startled, covering his ear with a hand, just to see Viktor smiling smugly down at him.

The man was wearing his traditional clothes, a long midnight blue silk coat with golden buttons that hugged his torso, just to open in the middle and fall to his knees. He had a golden sash resting on his hips, and his sword hung from it, placed comfortably at the side. He also wore tight black pants that, surprisingly, didn't restrain his movements.

" _Viktor,_ " he hissed, glaring at him, "you scared me."

"Why are you so tense, Yuuri?" He placed an arm around his shoulder nonchalantly. "It doesn't suit you. By the way, why aren't you wearing the costumes I left at the onsen?"

Yuuri put some distance between them, hoping he didn't notice his raging blush. "I-I still don't get what's the point of wearing one. My clothes are comfortable enough. Moreover, it's not like anyone will see me wearing them. It's way past midnight."

Viktor looked horrified. He muttered something along the lines of 'not the point', looking as though Yuuri had just kicked his puppy. He clutched his hand to his chest, always the melodramatic, and turned his head to the side.

"Ah, how can't you appreciate the aerodynamics a good costume gives you? You're a sorcerer, Yuuri, you need to wear costumes!"

"You always wear the same clothes when we go out hunting for cards."

"Because this suit is the traditional ensemble of the Nikiforov family. If we want to channel our powers at their fullest, we need to wear them." He straightened the blue lapels of the suit. "Also, it looks good on me."

Yuuri couldn't really argue with that.

Viktor quieted down, cocking his head to the side and looking at him deep in thought. Suddenly, he took something out of his pocket, and he heard the sound of a car being opened. He turned around, just to see an expensive-looking van opening its doors automatically. And inside, racks full of hanging suits were plain to view.

"… Viktor? What is this?"

"My portable changer. I have all your costumes in there, so you can get changed now. I didn't think I would have to use it that soon, I thought you would humour me with the costumes I brought you."

"But I don't want to wear a costume!"

Viktor turned him around and put his hands on his shoulders, pushing him towards the van. He didn't lose his Rockstar smile in the way.

"You'll change your mind once you get used to it. Now come on!"

"B-but-! The card!"

"The faster you get changed, the faster we can catch that card." He sing-songed, ignoring Yuuri's protests.

He was practically thrown inside the back of the van, and the doors closed behind him. He stared at the costumes in exasperation, swarmed with all the colours and styles that filled up the seemingly endless racks.

"Which… which one do I pick?"

"Whichever you like best," Viktor answered behind the still closed shut door, "… or do you want me to help you get dressed?"

"I-I can do it on my own, thanks."

A hearty laugh was the only answer he got before they fell into silence again, Yuuri blushing from head to toe. Makkachin slipped out of his pocket and began wandering around, his fluffy tail waggling excitedly. Maybe he could get him out of there?

"Makkachin? Do you think you could use those ancient powers of yours to open the door?"

"Do you think Viktor prepared some costumes for me too? I want to wear one too!" he exclaimed excitedly, ignoring completely Yuuri's question.

Yuuri face-palmed. Looking again at the costumes, he sighed, and began searching for one that actually suited him. If he was going to be locked in there until he got dressed, he might as well start picking what to dress already.

* * *

Yuuri stepped out of the van feeling a bit self-conscious. He tugged at the vibrant blue sleeves of the jacket, trying to look everywhere but the Russian man. Makkachin floated behind him, wearing the same jacket as him (but in his size), and he began twirling around, showing off.

"Viktor! How do you like my costume?"

"You look very cute, Makkachin!"

The poodle-like creature wiggled his tail excitedly at the praise. They threw himself to Viktor, who caught them and pet the soft fur on the top of their head. Makkachin parted away from him, satisfied with the petting, and Viktor turned to Yuuri. He stood there, in a pregnant silence, watching him from head to toe, while Yuuri fidgeted under his gaze.

"Yuuri."

"Yes!" he looked up, just to see Viktor standing mere inches from him. When had he gotten so close?

"You look really good with that suit."

Yuuri's cheeks were set ablaze. "You… you think so?"

Viktor put a hand on his cheek, cupping his face, and looked at him dead in the eyes. "I know so. You look absolutely stunning."

"Thanks."

Both of them heard a groan and looked up, just to see Yuuri standing on a lamp post, looking down at them in disgust. He was wearing his traditional clothes too, although his blue vest ended at his hips, not having the extra cloth hanging, and he also sported baggy white pants.

"Yurio! You came!" Yuuri called for the younger boy, whose eyebrows twitched at the mention of the nickname.

He dropped to the floor swiftly and stomped towards them. His fists were clenched to his sides, and there was the nastier of glares marring his face. However, it would be way more intimidating if the boy wasn't a head shorter than them.

"Don't 'Yurio' me, you stupid Katsudon! And Viktor!" he snarled, turning to face the other man, "why the hell didn't you wake me up!? I've told you a million times to call me whenever you feel a card activating. Same goes to you, cardcaptor wannabe. We all live at the same god forsaken house, for fuck's sake!"

"Such a putty mouth for a child, Yurio," Viktor tutted, tapping at his cheek. Yuri swatted the hand away.

"Shut up. I don't want to hear more from you." He huffed, crossing his arms "I guessed you guys had gone out hunting because you two were gone, and Viktor had taken along the mountains of costumes he has to cosplay you, like the sick old man he is."

Viktor seemed unfazed at the stream of insults thrown at his direction, and he chuckled apologetically. "Sorry, sorry! I was meaning to wake you up, I really was! But you looked so cosy in there, that I didn't have the heart to do it." Then, he turned to face Yuuri, a big smile in his face. "Yuuri, did you know that when Yurio sleeps he likes to hug-"

"SHUT UP, YOU PERVERTED BASTARD."

He was about to lunge at Viktor, fists raised and ready to punch, when Makkachin threw himself in his trajectory, making him stop in his tracks before he barrelled into the little creature. Yurio blinked in surprise, then huffed and turned around, ignoring them. Viktor didn't look even a bit fazed, to be honest.

"Guys, stop it," he whined cutely, "Yurio is right; we have more important things to worry about. First, we need to locate the card before it does any harm and seal it. You guys can fight later when you're at home."

Yuuri spluttered. "Makkachin, that's hardly the point-"

Suddenly, the nearest bush rustled, making some loose leaves fall to the floor. The three boys turned to look at it, watching the bush with a curious silence, when something jumped out of it. It was a creature with fur as white as snow, with cat-like features and bunny ears. Its long tail tensed when its cerulean eyes spotted the three humans looking down at him, and it stood as immobile as a statue.

"Oh," Makkachin pointed out, "it's the card."

The creature blinked with his big eyes, and suddenly bolted, leaving the place in the matter of seconds. The three of them watched it go with different states of shock, until Viktor quipped.

"Yurio, look! It's a kitten, like you!"

"I'M A TIGER, GOD DAMN IT, VIKTOR. _A TIGER,_ " he snarled. He crouched down, grumbling. "I'll show you I'm not a stupid kitten when I capture that card all by myself."

Suddenly, ice began surrounding him, creating the figure of a crystal feline around his body. Clouds of vapour surrounded him, and the moonlight shone in its surface, making it all together an eerie image in the silent night.

Without saying anything, the crystal creature bolted at the direction where the card had escaped, not even waiting for them. In the floor, frozen footsteps on where he stepped glinted at the dim light.

Oh, no!, Yuuri gasped mentally; if he got to the card first and managed to beat it, once sealed, the card would return to him! He began running, not even remembering to look back at Viktor, or wait for him. He took out his necklace while he ran, clasping his hands around the key that hung from it, and chanted the spell to activate it.

"Key which hides the powers of the darkness, reveal your true form before me!" A magic circle formed under his feet, and he extended his hand wielding the key, which began to sine brightly. "Under contract I, Katsuki Yuuri, command you! Release!"

A gust of wind surrounded him as the key became bigger, turning into his magic baton. He clasped it with a hand, still running, and with the other he reached for his cards. Which one should he choose? If he combined the effects of the Float and the Windy, he maybe would be able to match the card's speed… but would he be able to pull off all the magic needed to invoke two cards at the same time? His powers were still growing, so maybe it wasn't enough.

Suddenly, he felt an arm grab him at his waist, and he was tugged up, winding him out. He looked up, just to see Viktor smiling down at him. He glided with ease on the ice he was making as he went along, going even faster than Yurio. Makkachin, in turn, held for dear life to his jacket, trying not to be left behind.

"Viktor! What are you doing!?"

"Getting you there. Aren't we supposed to find the card? It would be no use if the only one who can seal it couldn't reach it."

"I-I could get there on my own."

He pouted. "But this way's faster, and you keep your energy for when we actually need to capture it."

It made sense. Of course it did! But that didn't make less embarrassing to be dragged like a sack of potatoes around the city.

"Okay, you have a point. Could you help me stand up, though?"

Viktor tugged at him again so he was supporting all of his body weigh on his. He sneaked his arms around his waist, and held him tightly against him. His toes barely touched the path of ice Viktor was creating under them, and he had to hug his shoulders to keep himself upright. His breath hitched when he could feel every line of his body moving, and his breath hitting the side of his face.

Had he said being carried like a sack of potatoes had been embarrassing? Being held like that while both glided on his ice was even more so.

"Do you like this position better, Yuuri?" he purred in his ear, a chuckle trying to make way from his lips.

"J-just focus on getting us there, okay?"

They glided for some time, reaching the beast form of the younger sorcerer. He growled when he noticed them, and Viktor waved playfully at him when they began leaving him behind. He tried to make his strides faster, but the speed Viktor had accomplished after years of training with his powers were too much for him.

Yuuri kept his eyes trained forward, trying to find the little white creature. The magic felt stronger in there, so that meant they were getting closer to their destination. Soon, they spotted the little bundle running ahead of them, which quickened his pace once feeling them close.

Viktor picked him up from his knees, carrying him in bridal style. Before he could protest, though, he stepped in, "Yuuri, I'm going to go a bit faster. Hold on tight on me, okay?"

He nodded, tightening his hold around his neck in answer. "Sure."

Yuuri felt it when Viktor's strides became more precise, stronger, and how the wind began whipping around them because of that. His hair was completely thrown back, and Yuuri could see the determination shining in his clear blue eyes. The card came closer, and Yuuri could see the effort the little boy was doing to keep up with the fast pace. They shortened the distance, until there were only metres away from them.

"Yuuri!" Viktor panted, "try to make it stop now."

Yuuri mused his chances with the cards he had in his possession. Although Wind was fast, he wasn't sure it was fast enough to capture the lithe creature. His other cards were much slower, or wouldn't have an effect on the little guy, but what if…

He reached for his pocket, where his cards were tucked securely, and grabbed one, certain that it was the card he was thinking about. He untangled his hold on Viktor and wielded his magic staff, his chosen card between his fingers.

"Card created by Clow, lend me your powers!" He threw the card to the air, and hit it with his baton. "Forest! Encase the creature with your strong roots!"

Suddenly, tree branches and fronds sprout from the card, growing at quick speed around them. The trees around were soon affected by the magic, and their roots began growing towards the pavement. The creature jumped while it ran, avoiding the early branches that tried to stop it, but soon, it became overwhelmed, and he began slowing down.

A misstep made the card fall to the floor, hitting his head against one strong root. The branches grew around it, encasing the little animal in a makeshift cage. Viktor stopped running then, and the Forest magic helped them lower to the ground. Makkachin flew out from the lapel of his jacket he'd been hanging on for all the trip, feeling a bit dazed by the bumpy trip.

Yuuri walked towards where the tiny creature was whining, his head the only part of his body visible. He crouched down, and watched attentive at the card's reaction. It stilled, eyes fixed on him, and prepared to defend itself if Yuuri turned out to be an enemy. However, the sorcerer placed a hesitant hand on the top of the creature's head, and stroked the soft fur.

"I'm sorry we hurt you, little guy. He didn't mean it."

The card looked at him for a while, big blue eyes fixated on him, when it timidly bumped its head with his hand, closing its eyes in complete surrender. Yuuri chuckled and stroked some more, earning a grateful purr.

"It's time to rest, Clow card." He tightened his hold on the baton, and tapped the creature softly on the head with its beak, "Return to your true form."

Magic began enveloping it, and a card materialised in the air. The overgrown trees and the creature disappeared, only leaving the card floating in the air. Softly, it fell on Yuuri's extended hands, who grabbed it grateful.

"Well done, Yuuri! As fantastic as always!" Viktor beamed behind him. Yuuri smiled gratefully back.

"Thanks for your help, Viktor. I don't know if I could've made it without you."

"Always eager to help."

"Because you're a stupid moron that ignores completely why we came here in the first place," Yurio panted nearby, his ice cloak melting, "you were supposed to catch the card for yourself, not help the Katsudon be one step closer to becoming the Card Master. Are you stupid?"

Viktor waved him off. "The important thing is that the card is sealed. Everything else is just a trifle."

"No, it's not!"

Viktor ignored Yurio's incessant bickering and got close to Yuuri, who was writing his name down on the card.

"The Dash, huh. Quite fitting."

"I know. I feel a bit sorry about him, though."

"Don't worry, Yuuri!" Makkachin exclaimed, already snapping out of his daze, "you can let Dash out once in a while. It's a really loyal card, so it will obey your every command, like a pet."

"That's good to know." He stood up, and turned towards the two Russian mages. "Should we head home? It's pretty late."

"Yes!" Viktor cheered, "could we have Katsudon once we get there?"

"You're going to get fat if you keep eating like a pig." Yurio teased.

"I won't. Come on, Yuuri! Let's go home."

Yuuri smiled at the two and walked beside them, heading to the onsen. He looked once again at his new card, and put it back with the other ones. He hoped the Dash would find a home with them too.


End file.
